It had been fifty-two days since Donna had walked out of Harvey's office after telling him she was leaving.

It had been five days since she'd last seen him.

And it had been two days since Louis had come into his office screaming that Harvey had thrown him through a glass table.

Donna didn't know what to make of that, in fact, she didn't know what to make of the past month in its entirety. She'd barely managed to convince Louis that suing wasn't the answer to the situation. Initially, she'd been consumed with rage at what Harvey had done. She'd never known him to be a cruel man, and she knew deep down that Louis must have said some truly awful things to warrant a full-frontal assault from Harvey. That didn't stop her from wanting to march over to his office and lay into him for hurting and humiliating Louis.

It also didn't stop her from wanting to check if Harvey had been hurt.

It also didn't stop her from thinking that Louis probably deserved it.

But, she thought, perhaps he had a cruel streak after all. She recalled him telling her he'd said — those things — out of pity, and the way he'd treated her like a stranger ever since. Regardless, part of her psyche screamed that the Harvey she knew was not a cruel man. Because for the past month, Donna couldn't help but feel like something was very wrong. That she was missing something.

The other night in her new cubicle, she'd watched as he appeared to have finally begun understanding why she'd walked away from him. That he'd been able to look past his anger and the blinders of abandonment and see her. Not the her he was afraid of both losing and taking risks for, but the 'her' whose heart couldn't handle the way he held it. The 'her' who needed to be in her own energy until she'd moved on, without being at the mercy of his ever-changing tides. She hoped he could finally see that she wasn't leaving him; she was saving herself. She was sorry. More than he could ever comprehend. Leaving him felt like tearing off a fucking body limb. And not a day passed that she didn't feel the phantom pain of his absence. But Donna knew it was the only way she'd ever have a chance, no matter how painful it was.

She loved him — enough to want to love herself too.

Yet, the seed of doubt planted in her psyche had continued growing over the past few weeks. Her habit for observing Harvey hadn't been one she'd managed to kick yet, and the growing list of alarming changes was too long for her to keep ignoring. His brutal violence and following silence only confirmed it that much more for her.

Donna realised she'd finished photocopying and as she put them into their folders, she heard the door of the file room open and close.

"Donna, I thought I might find you here," Mike said, making his presence known.

"What is it, Mike?" she replied in a tired tone. She loved the puppy, but as of late he only served as a reminder of how much everything had changed.

"Harvey called to tell me that he's coming in to get some things for his home office. And before you get angry at me for coming to you about him," Mike said, while holding his hands up in the universally recognised gesture of 'I come in peace.'

"Rachel told me you mentioned wanting to know what's going on with him."

"And? What makes you think I'm going to see him? He's not my responsibility anymore, Mike. He's a big boy who can handle it himself, I'm sure." Donna retorted, clinging to the reminders of why that was now the case. She'd finally finished sorting the copies and was surprised when she turned around. Mike looked stressed, his hair was all over the place and his eyes were pleading with her.

So, something is wrong.

"What, Mike? Spit it out," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning on her hip. She knew she intimidated Mike, and she figured she'd use it to her advantage.

"Donna, as much as I want to tell you, it's not my place to say. Harvey would have my testicles turned into a skinny tie. Just, please, go and see him when he's here. I know things haven't been ideal between you two, but I'm out of my depth here and with the suspension hanging over his head...," Mike begged, not having to say anything more.

"You're scaring me, Mike," she said with hesitation. Whatever it was sounded worse than she'd first anticipated. What had trouble had Harvey gotten himself into this time?

"I'm sorry, Donna, you know I wouldn't ask unless it was important," Mike said. Donna was grateful that he'd come to her to let her know he'd be in the office today. The hesitance to see him was just a ruse for more information, as Donna was already concerned enough to seek him out. She would keep her walls in place, but it didn't mean that she no longer cared. She was also still incredibly angry at him; the two emotions creating a dangerous combination within her.

"Okay, just text me when you know he's in. And hey, thank you, Mike," she said to soothe his worry. Picking up the copies, she walked out of the file room. She needed some time alone to prepare herself for being in the same room with Harvey on a personal basis. She could attempt to delude herself into claiming it was professional concern, but that would be pointless.

Mike watched as she left the room and sighed. He still couldn't believe Harvey had let her walk out of his office and out of his life. They were like two sides of the same coin; forever forged together, but never facing the same direction.

•

Donna felt her phone buzz in her pocket an hour later, knowing it would be Mike. She didn't need a text to make her aware of Harvey's presence. She hated that her body somehow always knew when he was in her vicinity, as she'd already begun to make her way to his office moments before the text came through.

Rounding the corner, she saw Harvey frantically sorting through files on his desk. He wasn't wearing a suit jacket, and quite frankly, he looked like shit. From the one button undone on his collar, along with the knot in his tie being too far to the right, she knew he hadn't slept properly. His hands shook slightly, meaning he'd gone over his caffeine allowance, and it was only midday. But, that wasn't anything new. For the past month, she'd noticed his little tells appearing more frequently. The vacancy in his eyes was appearing more and more despondent, and on more than one occasion, he'd worn un-laundered suits to work. Which was a first in twelve years she'd known him. His sharp wit had faltered a few times during meetings, and each time it did, he'd ground his teeth together with a clenched jaw in the mannerism Donna knew was frustration.

She didn't want to be noticing these things, but she had.

You know I love you, Donna.

She heard the words that kept coming back unbidden at the most inconvenient of times. The memory sent her heart racing and stomach into knots every time, so she quickly buried it. Now was not the time. Actually it was never — nor would ever — be the time again. That was history now. She nodded at Gretchen who waved her towards the door, not bothering to even look up from her computer. She found she was becoming very fond of that woman.

She knocked three times on his glass door and watched his head snap up to look at her. It was then that she saw several emotions pass over his face, before settling into one of dejection and looking back down at his desk to continue sorting files.

"Leave, Donna. Turn around and walk away," Harvey gritted through his teeth.

"No, Harvey," she responded, closing the door while noting that his anger had obviously returned. She moved to stand behind the chairs in front of his desk, knowing it would be best to maintain a certain level of distance if she wanted to control of the trajectory of this storm. Glancing to her right in the process, she saw that the glass coffee table had yet to be replaced.

"I want to talk to you, and I want to know what the hell happened the other night," she replied.

"It's none of your goddamn business, I have it under control. And I'd appreciate it if you now kindly toddled back to your little cubicle. I have no doubt Louis would be less than impressed to see you fraternizing with the enemy," he snarked back, as he glanced at her momentarily and met her eye. He saw hurt, shock, confusion and — concern? He searched for fear and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief at its absence before looking away.

"Is that right? Well, it doesn't look like you have it under control, so start talking," she countered, throwing her arm out to gesture at the incomplete suite of furniture.

Harvey remained silent. This only heightened Donna's frustration and she found herself becoming the storm she'd promised herself to be the eye of.

"Do you know how lucky you are that you didn't hurt him more severely? Do you know how much it took to stop Louis from shoving a lawsuit down your throat?" Her volume rose. "I encouraged him to keep it in the family because that's what family does. And if you haven't forgotten, that's what we were once. Family."

"Donna, we still are," he replied quietly, dropping his head again.

"No, family doesn't throw each other through tables! Family doesn't sleep with people's sisters behind their backs! Family doesn't play with people's—," she stopped herself before venturing into the uncharted territory that was them.

"Look, I know you never had a family before coming to this firm, Harvey. So feel free to let me know if you need a crash course on how to behave with some basic human-fucking-decency." She inwardly winced at her own venomous remark but was unable to stop herself, despite knowing she was wedging a knife directly where it would hurt. "But, I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, and believe that you've matured enough to know you're in the wrong this time. So, it's time to start explaining yourself."

Harvey was still simply staring down at his desk, unmoving.

"I can't keep defending you like I always have when you're lashing out at everyone around you, including me. You're burning every bridge you have and if the twelve years you thanked me for counts for anything — you'll stop treating me like a stranger, and start telling me what's going on. This isn't like you." She could feel her desperation seeping through, but his silence had her feeling that perhaps he really did feel no remorse.

"I know something is wrong, Harvey."

Harvey said nothing.

"Please, talk to me."

He stayed silent.

This was her breaking point. The concern and anger had nowhere to else go and morphed into full-blown rage to protect her from the sharp pain of more rejection at the hands of Harvey Specter.

"Okay. If that's how you're going to be, I give up. I hope you know what you're doing, I really do. If you want to continue down this path, and cut yourself off from everyone who lov— cares about you, be my fucking guest. I just won't be around to see it," Donna yelled, turning on her heel to storm out of his office. She was breathless from the rage and hurt, and her stomach ached from the concern that was still coursing through her system.

Just as she'd reached the door, she heard it: the sound of a glass smashing loudly on the floor.

She spun around to see Harvey leaning on the front of his desk. A flask of water was spilt across his desk as though he'd been reaching for it and the remnants of a glass were shattered around his feet on the floor.

"What the—," she went to ask, but the words got lodged in her throat as her gaze finally followed his body back up to his face. He was as pale as a ghost and clutching helplessly at the tie around his neck.

Harvey had managed to fight off the black that had started shrinking his field of vision, and ignore that the walls were closing in and the tightness in his chest — but only until she'd turned around. Once he was no longer in her sights, his grip on reality gave way and he felt his lungs collapse in on themselves. He knew he had but seconds to get to the trash can before his guts decided to empty themselves. He also had to get a glass of water, to ground himself in the face of abject horror. The final thought was that he should get closer to the ground because the world was growing unsteady, and the last thing he needed was a concussion if he lost consciousness. He ended up attempting all three at once and found himself trapped in the paralysis of panic, grasping uselessly at his tie while standing on a bed of glass.

Too late, he thought, death is here.

Donna felt all the rage in her body disappear, and an overwhelming sense of terror surged through her body. Harvey. She was in front of him in the blink of an eye.

"Harvey," she said, panic evident in her voice.

"Harvey!" she repeated, but he was unresponsive. His eyes were glazed over, and his breathing was irregular and shallow. Her hands found his arms, squeezing and moving up and down, as though she'd be able to locate the source of pain. Instinct told her it was a heart attack, and she instantly switched to practicality. She used all her strength to grip his shoulders, bearing as much weight as she could while she walked him to the couch. She could feel how weak he was on his feet, and he sat down slowly with trembling legs.

"Harvey, look at me," she begged, kneeling down between his legs and taking his face between her hands. Beads of sweat were dripping down his temples, and his lips were turning blue.

Don't you dare die on me, Harvey. You're not allowed to leave me.

She quickly moved to undo the tie, ripping it away from his throat and throwing it aside. She then reached for the phone that she knew would be in his front right pocket, unable to look into his eyes that were charged with silent screams.

"I'm calling an ambulance, you're having a heart attack," she stuttered, clumsily reaching into his pocket with her shaking hands. "Try and take deep breaths for me, please."

Then she felt one of his hands enclose tightly around the wrist of the hand that was in his pocket.

"I— It's not," Harvey gasped, "it's a panic attack," he said after another gulp of air.

Donna froze, her mind moving a hundred miles an hour to take in the new information. Panic attack? Harvey didn't have panic attacks. She looked into his eyes to gauge whether or not he was lying to her, probably in an attempt to dissuade the threat of paramedics. She knew how much he hated being coddled. Her heart contracted as she saw nothing except truth. This realisation came like a punch to the gut, and she felt the guilt settle deep in her bones, knowing that her absence meant she'd missed… She shook her head, focusing on him. There'd be time to deal with her own emotions later.

"What do you need? Tell me. Tell me how to help, please," she begged. His shaking hand had begun to rub small circles over her wrist with his thumb, and she hated that even in the grips of panic, he was trying to comfort her.

"Top drawer," he breathed, "pills, grab two—," Harvey hadn't finished his sentence before Donna was halfway to his desk. She fumbled for the handle and was relieved to see the metallic sheet right on top. In the same instant, she winced as she watched Harvey collapse off the couch and onto his knees, grabbing the small trash bin from beside the other couch and hurling violently into it.

She poured him a glass of water, before taking her place next to him on the floor and placing the tumbler on the ground next to them. She was distantly aware of the glass walls that surrounded them and was thankful he'd collapsed behind the view of the couch, knowing Harvey wouldn't want anyone to see him like this. Her heels had since been discarded, and she began running one hand up and down his back, and the other through his hair — smoothing it away from his face while he dry heaved. His hair was too short to get in the way, but Donna just needed to touch him. To assure herself he was still warm, and very much alive, even if his breathing was ragged and his skin pale.

He looked back at her after he'd finished, and she saw the panic, pain and shame in his eyes. No, not saw — felt — through her entire being.

"Here, take these," she whispered while placing the tablets between his lips. He let her drop them onto his tongue, as she raised the glass of water to his mouth. He sculled it like a man who'd been without for weeks, and Donna gently wiped away the liquid that had spilt down his chin.

It wasn't until she saw his hand hesitantly reach up towards her face, before freezing in the air between them, that she realised tears were streaming freely down her cheeks. She had been crying the whole time.

He must have decided against wiping them away for her, and finally let go. Slumping forward, his head came to rest on her knee as he rode the attack out and waited for the chemicals to take control. She couldn't help but continue stroking the his hair tenderly. Her fingers gently travelled from the top and traced slowly down to his nape, and across the back of his neck — repeating it over again and over.

"Please don't go," she heard him whisper in a cracked voice, his breath warm on her leg.

"I'm here, Harvey," she whispered gently; his words splitting her heart in two. She'd never heard Harvey beg and didn't realise until that moment that she never wanted to. Not now, and not ever again. She'd never seen him so fragile, not even when his father had passed.

"I'm not going anywhere."

She wondered if this was how it would always end; with his tears on her face, and her heart in his hands.

"I'm sorry."

Her heart broke again.